The Great Brain Robbery

By Anna Kemp

Frankie and his pals are back and trying to save the world from another diabolical scheme by the evil Dr Gore. This time he's planning to infiltrate the dreams of children everywhere using his army of robot toys! Can Frankie and his friends stop him before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK
• Release date: Jul 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781471117978

Anna Kemp

Anna Kemp writes both picture books and middle grade fiction. Her books have been nominated for the Booktrust Early Years Award, the Roald Dahl Funny Prize, the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, Oscar’s Book Prize, and the Dundee Picture Book Award. Her work has also been adapted for television, puppetry, dance, orchestra, and theatre. Anna loves to visit schools and libraries and attend festivals. Visit her online at AnnaKemp-Author.com.

Book preview

What is the best question ever? Answer: What do you want for your birthday? Well now, let me see. I would like a train-set, and a mermaid outfit, and one of those time-machines that sends you back to the days when there was no school and people had dinosaurs for pets – pleeeeeease!

I love presents. I bet you do too. Problem is, you don’t always get what you asked for. And that’s because some things are just ‘too many pennies’, as my nan used to say. Frankie Blewitt did not have many pennies, so he did not have many toys. But, all the same, there was one toy that Frankie really, really wanted. One toy that would make all his dreams come true. It was the toy of toys. The toy to end all toys. The Greatest Toy of All. It was, of course, a Mechanimal. What do you mean, ‘What’s a Mechanimal?’? Wake up! Pay attention! For those of you who have been living on the moon, Mechanimals are the most wanted toys on the planet Earth: Gadget the Rabbit! Sparky the Squirrel! Gigawatt the Gila Monster! In shiny blue, or sparkly pink, or glow-in-the-dark green. And Gadget the Rabbit was right at the top of Frankie’s birthday wishlist – double underlined and surrounded by stick-on stars. But Frankie knew he was never going to get one. So as soon as he had finished his list, he tore it up and threw it in the bin.

Not having a Mechanimal was a big problem for Frankie. Not because he was a greedy little so-and-so, but because he was the only kid in school who didn’t have one. Every lunchtime Frankie’s classmates would grab their Mechanimals from their rucksacks, run to the playground and play Mechanimal Farm or Battle Mechanimal. But Frankie just had to watch. None of this would have been so bad if Frankie’s friends had been around, but his best friend Neet was off school with chickenpox, and his pal Wes had moved away. So every lunchtime, Frankie sat on a bench at the edge of the playground, stared at his trainers, and waited for Mrs Pinkerton to blow the whistle – which wasn’t much fun at all.

But Frankie’s problems didn’t end there. They were made a whole lot worse by a new arrival: Timothy Snodgrass. Little Timmy Snodgrass was one of those children who got everything on his wishlist and some extras besides. All he had to do was blink his big blue eyes and say, ‘But Mummy, Mummy! A Mechanimal spaceship is the only thing I have ever really wanted!’ and, before you knew it, he not only had a spaceship but a funhouse, farm and fairground too. As you can imagine, having all those toys made Timmy an instant hit with his classmates. When the schoolbell rang at the end of the day, everyone would race over to Timmy’s to play in his spectacular playroom – everyone, that is, except Frankie. No Mechanimal meant no invitation to Timmy’s. So Frankie would pack up his schoolbag and set off home alone. It was the worst feeling ever. Or so Frankie thought. Then, one drizzly September afternoon, things got even worse.

It was the end of the school day and everyone was whispering excitedly about Timmy’s new Mechanimal racetrack. Frankie didn’t expect to be invited, so he collected his things and tried to slink away before anybody noticed. But it was too late. As he headed for the door, a pair of smart new trainers stepped into his path.

‘Aren’t you coming round to play?’

Frankie looked up in surprise. Timmy was standing in front of him smiling. The sort of smile you’d see on a venomous snake.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Timmy smirked. ‘I forgot. You don’t have a Mechanimal, do you? What dreadful luck. Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to go home and play with the beetles under your bed.’

The whole class went silent. Frankie could feel their eyes on his skin and his face began to prickle. He moved to walk out of the door but Timmy blocked him again.

‘I bet they all have names, don’t they? Your beetle friends.’

The class giggled nervously. They didn’t want to annoy Timmy. He had a Mechanimal racetrack after all. Frankie felt a tightening in his throat. He tried to think of something clever to say but his mind was buzzing like a TV screen when it goes all black and white and blizzardy. He screwed up his eyes to try and shut the buzzing out but it just grew louder and louder until suddenly he blurted:

‘SHUT UP, Timmy! I actually HAVE a Mechanimal! I just don’t want to play with YOU, because you’re a—’ Then Frankie said a very rude word that I mustn’t repeat.

Timmy’s face went pink and his eyes turned into thin little slots, making his head look rather like a piggy bank. ‘Oh, really,’ he snorted. ‘Well we’ll see about that.’ Timmy lunged forward, seized Frankie’s rucksack and tipped it upside-down. Books, pencils and bits of old sandwich went tumbling onto the mucky floor of the cloakroom along with a two-pound coin that started rolling quickly away.

‘Hmmm . . . I don’t see any Mechanimals here,’ Timmy scoffed. The class was in fits of giggles, but Frankie wasn’t listening. He had dived to the floor to stop the coin from rolling under the lockers. He had been given it to buy some bread for dinner and couldn’t afford to lose it. Frankie’s knees skidded across the rough carpet then WALLOP! he collided heavily with a locker-door, knocking a deep dent in its side. The class howled with laughter.

‘What’s all this fuss?! Shhh! Quiet children!’ Mrs Pinkerton came bustling through the crowd like a pink rhinoceros and stopped in front of Frankie, her hands planted squarely on her enormous hips. ‘Frankie Blewitt!’ she honked. ‘What on earth are you doing? Look at your knees! What a mess!’

‘Frankie slipped over,’ said the treacherous Timmy, blinking his big, blue eyes. ‘It wasn’t his fault, Miss.’

‘Well it is very noble of you to stand up for your friend, Timmy,’ cooed Mrs Pinkerton, patting his curly head, ‘but I know trouble when I see it. Now pick up your things, Frankie, and go home!’

‘But I—’

‘NOW, Frankie!’

Frankie couldn’t believe the total unfairness of it all. It was SO unfair – even more unfair than the time he had got blamed for teaching the class budgie to say ‘Mrs Stinkerton’ – which he hadn’t! (Though right now he sort of wished he had.) Frankie looked around at the faces staring down at him. Timmy was standing behind the teacher mouthing something silently: Frankie – no – friends. Frankie felt his ears burn with embarrassment, but before he had the chance to say anything, the whole class snatched up their coats and, without a glance in his direction, hurtled off to Timmy’s house, sprinting and jumping and shrieking like fireworks.

Frankie felt like a punctured balloon. He picked himself up and slowly dragged himself home. His knees were raw in the chilly September air and his cheeks stung with tears as he tried to rub them away with the itchy cuff of his school jumper.

‘Urrrrgh . . . stupid . . . Timmy . . .’ he muttered angrily. ‘Stupid . . . stupid . . . urrrrrgh!’ Frankie didn’t want anyone at home to see his red eyes, so he took the long route to let them cool off a bit. He always took the long route when he’d had a bad day. That was because it took him past the doors of the most marvellous, the most extraordinary, the most spectacular toyshop in the world: Marvella Brand’s Happyland.

Marvella’s was a new addition to the village of Cramley-on-the-Crump. When the news broke that a Marvella’s was opening the local children gasped with joy. And when they heard that this Marvella’s would be the biggest in the country, the children gasped so deeply they almost turned themselves inside-out. You see, Marvella Brand’s Happyland was more than your regular toy emporium. It was an enchanted kingdom, a magical realm where all your dreams came true – dreams you hadn’t even had yet, dreams of things you didn’t even know were possible.

Frankie stopped on the pavement outside the shop and gazed up at this magical dream castle. Brightly-coloured flags flew from masts, turrets sparkled like candied fruit, and two red-cheeked toy soldiers stood guard at the entrance. Above the door, ‘Marvella’s’ was spelt out in glittering letters and, perched on top of these was the store’s famous mascot, Teddy Manywishes, waving and smiling mechanically. The shop wasn’t yet open so the golden doors were still tightly shut. But peering through the window, Frankie could see boxes being stacked on the shelves in preparation for the grand opening. Pride of place, of course, went to the store’s star toys: the Mechanimals. Row upon gleaming row of them, like a miniature army, and leading the charge was Frankie’s favourite – a smart blue Gadget the Rabbit.

Now you’ve probably been wondering what’s so special about Mechanimals. Well let me tell you. A Mechanimal is not just any robotic pet. It is much much more. Each and every Mechanimal is specially programmed to recognise you, its owner. From the moment it sets its electronic eyes on your beaming face, your Mechanimal becomes your most devoted friend. It doesn’t tease you, or ignore you, or sulk when you don’t share your crisps. It doesn’t tip your schoolbag out on the floor or snitch to the teacher. No, your Mechanimal thinks you are the best thing since stripy pyjamas. It will follow you to the ends of the earth and love you for as long as its batteries last – guaranteed.

Frankie pressed his head against the cold glass of the window and sighed. He really needed a friend. Even a mechanical one would have done just fine.

With all the teasing and trouble and grazing of knees, Frankie had almost forgotten that the next day was his tenth birthday. He closed his eyes and imagined how brilliant it would be to come downstairs and see a Gadget-the-Rabbit-shaped present on the kitchen table. But he knew it was impossible. Marvella Brand’s Happyland could make all your dreams come true, but not if you were skint. Frankie pushed his nose down into his scarf and trudged slowly home.

Frankie Blewitt hadn’t always been skint. In fact, his parents, Mr